


Stitch in Time

by Kiki78



Category: Quantum Leap, Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse Fix-it, Dean Swears, Eventual Happy Ending, Time Travel, Time travel runs in families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiki78/pseuds/Kiki78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woman gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re Dean Winchester, right?” </p>
<p>“That’s me, and you are?” </p>
<p>“An old friend of Bobby’s. Tamlyn Matsuda.” Tamlyn looked Dean up and down. “The other day Bobby sent out a hunter BOLO for Bela Talbot--”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” before Tamlyn could continue, Dean interrupted her, “it’s been called off on account of the bitch dying.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The old switcheroo

**Author's Note:**

> This is un-beta'd, and being written on a lark. It starts in at the last episode of Supernatural Season three and diverts from there.
> 
> Also not bothering to acknowledge that the last episode of Quantum Leap.

_Bela woke screaming. Shrieks of terror echoed in the sterile room. Her screams tapered off, till she was gasping for air, chest heaving up and down in panic. Aside from the mattress she was laying on, nothing else was in the room. Nothing was attacking her. Bela wasn’t sure if this was a comforting or distressing turn of events.  
_

_No windows._

_Two doors._

_Paneled white walls that radiated a pale, soothing, blue light._

_This was not what Bela Talbot ever expected any part of hell to look like._

_Last thing that Bela could recall from before waking in this new place was the hellhound_

_One of the doors opened, and a dark skinned woman stepped in. Hair pulled back, and sporting a sensible but flattering red dress, she offered Bela a comforting smile. “Please don’t be alarmed. You are perfectly safe. No one will harm you. I am Dr. Verbena Beeks. If you don't mind, there are a few questions I’d like to ask you.”_

\---------------------------------------- 

Sunlight glistened across car hoods sprinkled with a late morning dew. Up from the main road a car turned onto what could be considered the driveway to Bobby’s home. Unlike the rest of the vehicles around, this one was new. The car pulled to a stop and a woman stepped out, leaving a passenger curled up in the back-seat. 

The strange woman walked up to the front door. Glancing back at the car, and her passenger, she braced for the inevitable; and pounded on the door. 

\---------------------------------------- 

Dean peeked through the side window at the woman currently pounding at the door. A decade younger and she’d have been one hell of an asian dish. She had dark hair pulled neatly back, and expressive eyes. Over all, her entire appearance was very neat and well put together. Dean opened the door, and lounged there with a smirk firmly in place. He had no clue who this was, but it wasn’t like Dean to let a little thing like that get in the way of anything. Besides, either this chick was going to be useful, or she was going to get the hell out of here… Dean had bigger concerns at the moment. “Yo, careful you might knock the fucking house down at the rate you’re going.” 

The woman gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re Dean Winchester, right?” 

“That’s me, and you are?” 

“An old friend of Bobby’s. Tamlyn Matsuda.” Tamlyn looked Dean up and down. “The other day Bobby sent out a hunter _BOLO_ for Bela Talbot--” 

“Yeah,” before Tamlyn could continue, Dean interrupted her, “it’s been called off on account of the bitch dying.” 

Tamlyn raised a brow. “Why was she needed?” 

“Look, I could give a rat’s ass about that bitch. She stole something, and that’s what we wanted back. Bela got what was coming to her.” When Tamlyn pulled the _Colt_ from her bag and held it up for him to see, Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. “Wait, _you’re_ the buyer?” 

Tamlyn motioned with the weapon towards her car, someone in the backseat could clearly be seen. Though, the person was laying down, Dean could tell that it was a woman. “You want the _Colt_ ,” Tamlyn explained. “My friend needs help.” 

“So, what’s stopping me from sucker punching you and taking the Colt back instead?” 

“Absolutely nothing, but you won’t and I’m not. I have no interest in your father’s gun. Coming here is a courtesy.” As if to prove a point, Tamlyn held the _Colt_ out for Dean to take; which he obliged. Safety checked, the weapon was quickly stowed in the band of Dean’s jeans. 

Beer in hand, Bobby wandered up behind Dean, “Damnit Tammy!” The older man brushed past Dean and pulled Tamlyn into a hug. “What in the hell are you doing here?” 

“Bobby, it’s been ages!” Tamlyn returned the hug. “Doing a couple of things, but I can’t stay long. Fate is a funny thing. I had a strange vision dream, and followed the clues from it. My visions led me to this seedy little motel, where I ran across a very interesting someone that had just been attacked by a dog.” 

Bobby held Tamlyn at arm’s length, then glanced at the car before letting her go. His expression darkened. “Shit. Is that who I think it is in there?” 

“It might be. Remember all the rumors and whispers about the _Traveler?_ ” 

“Dean, go get Sammy. Now.” 

\---------------------------------------- 

“So, how in the hell is Bela still breathing? She was supposed to be puppy-chow by now.” Dean paced the living room and watched the sleeping form of Bela Talbot on the sofa. “And what the fuck is this _Traveler_ thing?” Bela, for her part, had been more than unresponsive while being brought in. Instead of her usual state of sexy impeccableness, Bela was in a loose black shirt and baggy jeans. A back part of Dean’s mind happily registered that she was also braless. As she’d been moved, Dean had felt several bandages beneath the uncharacteristic clothes; a brace was present both on right wrist and left leg with visible bandaged defensive wounds on the left wrist. 

Before either woman entered the house, Dean had made sure they were sprinkled with holy water and passed the silver test to be on the safe side. It was coming down to the wire before his contract was up, and last thing Dean wanted was to be ganked prematurely. 

“Traveler stories are few and far between. Most hunters don’t even bother with him because they think it’s pure horseshit.” Bobby took a swig from his beer. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam studying Bela. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the younger Winchester was looking for a way to find out what happened to keep Bela alive so that the same could be done for Dean. “There are _years_ between Traveler stories. Worse, this guy generally doesn’t stick around very long. Trying to confirm these stories is worse than finding a needle in a haystack, blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. 

“It’s kooky stuff too. Like, some alien-crazy old grandpa going off the rails and telling his grandson to not do drugs, then gives the kid a damn _list_ of rock stars who die of overdoses in the next couple of years… or a kid with down syndrome using CPR techniques to save the life of his nephew, years before CPR was even a thing.” 

Tamlyn wandered into the living from the kitchen with a tray. On the tray was a small but functional and clean tea pot and a set of cups with tea bags in them, as well as a few more bottles of beer. There was also a plate with several cold sandwiches. The beer was distributed to the men. Once Tamlyn had settled into a seat on the sofa and arranged Bela’s head in her lap, Tamlyn started to steep the cups to brew two teas. 

“Tammy here,” Bobby used his half empty beer bottle to point at the asian woman, “is the only reason I give credence to any _Traveler_ tale. From what she says, the guy saved her life back in the eighties. The gist is the same in all of the stories though, _Traveler_ swaps places with someone close to the problem, sets things right, and then the original person comes back with none the wiser.” 

“So, some guy randomly shows up and saves people?” Starting to sound a little irritated at the distraction towards planning how to save his brother, Sam nearly growled his next question, "and that's why Bela is still alive?" 

"What's the catch, what's in it for him? Bela had to have paid something. No one ever does something like that with no strings attached." Dean sauntered over to the sofa and planted his ass on the arm rest. 

Bela stirred in Tamlyn's lap, her eyes fluttered open then rapidly closed again tightly to block out the world around her. The brunette tried to hunker further under the blanket. A low pained whine escaped Bela's lips. "Morning Sunshine," Tamlyn traced a line from Bela's brow down to her jaw. 

"Tamlyn?" Bela's voice was raw. 

"It's me." Pointedly ignoring the looks she was getting from the Winchester brothers, Tamlyn kept stroking the side of Bela's face in an attempt to soothe her. "Figured that was you in there. Has Al contacted you yet? I haven’t felt his presence, but I remember he didn’t like it that I could sense him.” 

Bela chuckled, then winced. “He hated it, creeped him out big time...” 

“Seen a mirror yet?” Tamlyn asked, then frowned when the answer was a head shake. "Your aura is a woman called Bela Talbot, she's not a very nice or honest person. Bela was supposed to die last night in an attack. We are in South Dakota. The three gentlemen in the room with us are Sam and Dean Winchester and Robert 'Bobby' Singer. They’re good guys.” 

Bela grimaced when Tamlyn helped her sit up. It didn’t help that Bela looked more than a little green around the gills, and was probably well on her way to tossing her cookies. “When?” 

“When?” Dean repeated the question in disbelief. The entire situation was ludicrous. “It’s about nine in the morning. That a good enough _when_ for you?” 

Rubbing her temple, Bela sighed in annoyance at the attitude being tossed her way. “Not really. The year?” She murmured a quiet thanks when Tamlyn insisted that she at least drink some tea. It would help settle her stomach. 

“2008,” Sam spoke up helpfully and was rewarded with a quiet 'bitch' from Dean. 

"That explains some things." Bela raked a hand through her hair. Carefully she studied the three men in the room. "Mr. Singer, a word with you, in private, please?"


	2. Here to help.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby had explained a LOT of what was happening. The thought that this Dean Winchester kid had literally sold his soul to a demon was a little unnerving. Looks like Al was right to believe in demons running amok. Sam wondered on that. If demons and the like were real, what about the other direction; angels, and creatures of divinity? It was a nice thought. Sometimes nice thoughts like that were one of the few things that made him keep plowing forward, leap after leap, life after life.

"You're a psychic as well?" Tamlyn finally asked after an extended and awkward silence. Calmly, she sipped at her tea while eyeing Sam Winchester and was glared at in return by both brothers. "When there is a little less danger, if you like, I’d be willing to teach you a little how to control your abilities.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as neither brother wanted to respond. Almost like a caged tiger, Sam paced the room. It was Dean that finally replied. “Why? We don’t know you, and you, sure as shit, don’t know us.” 

The tea cup was set down on the cluttered coffee table next to a leather bound book on curses. “I know Bobby. Through him, and possibly because Bela Talbot hasn’t returned yet, I know that you are good people. 

“Think of this as my way of paying karma forward.” 

Sam stopped pacing. He looked towards the kitchen doorway where Bobby and Bela had disappeared through. The sound of the kitchen’s screen door opening and then falling shut again could be heard, followed closely by the sound of footsteps. “She… uhm, _he’s_ thinkin whether or not he’s gonna help with Dean’s situation.” It was Bobby, and his tone warned no nonsense. 

“He? Wait, that’s a guy?” Dean snorted. “Really? You're fucking with me. With _those_ hips?” 

“Does this _Traveler_ have a name, or is there anything I’m supposed to call _him_?” Sam chose to disregard his brother’s comment on Bela’s hips, though he had to agree that it was hard to imagine them on a guy. But hey, stranger things were known to be genderfluid, like skinwalkers, shapeshifters… demons. 

“Yeah. Apparently his name is Sam Beckett.” 

“Hey, Sammy, he’s got your name!” Dean smirked, trying to conceal his amusement and failing spectacularly. 

Sam directed another glare at his brother. “Sam Beckett, like the writer?” 

\---------------------------------------- 

After Bobby had gone back inside, Sam Beckett stayed out on the porch mulling things over. Leaned against the railing, he kept most of his weight off his bad leg. When he’d lept into Bela Talbot, he’d been almost immediately attacked by some creature. Bobby had explained that was a hellhound, and that it’d probably lost interest in him because he _wasn’t_ Bela. Thank Heaven for small favors, Sam thought. The attack had still taken it’s toll on him. 

In Sam’s hand was what Bobby had called a _burner_ phone. To Sam it looked like a cellphone, granted it wasn’t nearly the size or shape of the phones that he was used to. Those things were large, and clunky. All Sam had to do was call up someone, anyone, from Project Quantum Leap, and he was homeward bound. No one was going to think of looking for him in 2008. 

Bobby had explained a LOT of what was happening. The thought that this Dean Winchester kid had literally sold his soul to a demon was a little unnerving. Looks like Al was right to believe in demons running amok. Sam wondered on that. If demons and the like were real, what about the other direction; angels, and creatures of divinity? It was a nice thought. Sometimes nice thoughts like that were one of the few things that made him keep plowing forward, leap after leap, life after life. 

Sam slipped back into the house. He could hear the usual question that popped up every single time his name was said. Sam Beckett, like the writer. 

“More like, Dr. Samuel Beckett,” braced against the doorway into the living room, Sam kept the weight off his left leg and gave the room’s occupants a confident smile. “Quantum physicist. And I’m here to help.”


	3. Homework

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, aside from Bela's great ass, what assets are you bringing to the party." Dean didn't bother to disguise his ogling.
> 
> "The ability to pee standing up." Beckett deadpanned, and smiled when he realized the younger Winchester just stifled a snicker. Gratefully he handed Bela's bag off, and accepted Sam's assistance.

"Seriously Sam. Are you sure you want to stay? The Winchester boys, they don't like Bela." Tamlyn opened the trunk of her rental car. Before leaving the motel where she'd found Sam bleeding on the ground, Tamlyn had moved Bela's bags from the vehicle they were originally in and into hers. It had been a smart move since it had gotten the _Colt_ back in the process. She shook her head, as Sam hauled one of the bags out with a grunt. "Each time they've worked together, Bela has conned those two. You're not Bela, for those two, the fact that you look and sound like her won't help matters."

Another grunt, and Sam shouldered Bela's bag. Tucked under one arm was an old crutch that Bobby had remembered stored in an upstairs closet. It wasn't much of an improvement, but at least Sam could maneuver around easier. Sam glanced over at the porch. Both of the Winchester brothers had drifted out by now and were closely watching Sam, as though they expected Bela to double-cross them again. "They'll get over it and deal. From what Bobby said, they're smart boys. 

"But you. Helping out San Francisco's finest on another murder?" 

"Of course. It's my job." Mindful of Sam's injuries and crutch, Tamlyn pulled her old friend closer into a loose embrace. She whispered into his ear. "Before you start worrying, it's safe. I don't see myself needing a rescue. Those two, however, if they stay on their current path, _Dean will die_." 

"Not if I have anything to say about it." 

\---------------------------------------- 

Suppressing a mischievous chuckle, Dean smirked when he saw Tamlyn first pull _Bela_ close. Playfully Dean reached over and smacked his brother in the arm when Beckett and Tamlyn ended up in a kiss. 

It wasn't a small peck. 

The kiss started slow. It gradually warmed with Tamlyn teasing Beckett to passion. Even at this distance, Dean could see a flush creeping up on _Bela's_ cheeks. 

"See Sammy? Now THAT'S what I would call an _almost_ appropriate entertainment for a dying man." Dean laughed out loud. 

"Dean Winchester," Tamlyn called over with a smile, not bothering to release her hold on Beckett. 

"Yeah?" The hunter couldn't help but be more amused at how flustered Beckett now looked. 

"The impala, yours?" 

"Yeah," Dean looked at his car just in case there actually was something wrong. "What of it? Something up with my baby?" 

"Nothing wrong. Noticed the _King Thunder_ tape on the dash. _Rock the Red Head_ , it's a good compilation." Tamlyn opened the door to her rental and paused for a moment, her head tilted. "When you are not under imminent threat of death, you might want to ask Sam here about the band. I understand he spent some time with them in the seventies." 

Ass firmly grabbed, Beckett squeaked indignantly and gave Tamlyn a wide eyed stare that she replied to with a wink. "Really?! And how the heck did you know about that?" 

"Seeing through your host aura once makes it easier to see through others. You do a sort of fumbling thing when you leap in and don't know who you are yet. It's very cute, and makes for a very interesting game of _Where's Waldo_ while watching late night tv." 

\---------------------------------------- 

Plumes of dust were kicked up into the air, swirling into nothingness as Tamlyn drove off, leaving Beckett behind with the Winchesters. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, Beckett hobbled back to the house. It was only now that Sam reached out to help, even if the larger man didn't look all that comfortable with the notion of having _Bela_ around for longer than she needed to be. "So, Dr. Beckett, I guess we're supposed to trust you." 

"Hey, aside from Bela's great ass, what assets _are_ you bringing to the party." Dean didn't bother to disguise his ogling. 

"The ability to pee standing up." Beckett deadpanned, and smiled when he realized the younger Winchester just stifled a snicker. Gratefully he handed Bela's bag off, and accepted Sam's assistance up the few stairs. "But, skill sets useful to you two right now? Would you boys prefer a laundry list or just the highlights." 

"I'm actually a little curious about what the hell you had to do with _King Thunder_." 

"Oh, that? In the original timeline Geoffrey Mole was murdered after a concert in seventy five. The killer was never identified. Tell you what, knock off with the leering because it's really uncomfortable, and once things settle down tomorrow, I can teach you a few _King Thunder_ guitar licks." 

Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother. At least on the bright side, Dean seemed okay with this _Traveler_. "Dude, highlights. Are you going to be useful?" 

"Hope so. The highlights are eidetic memory, four black belts, fluent in Latin, did a stint as a priest, another as a rabbi, prize fighter, wrestler and even saw active duty as a couple of soldiers.” Beckett steadied himself at the top of the stairs and nodded at Sam. “A set of doctoral degrees in medicine and archaeology are the icing on the cake.” 

“ _Geek_.” Dean coughed under his breath. 

The instant the trio stepped back through the doorway, Bobby was waiting for them. In his hands was a stack of books. “You’re the same idjit that Time magazine wrote about back in the nineties, right?” 

“Probably, there’s a good cha--” Beckett choked when the stack of books was shoved into his chest. 

“Great. Now get to readin’ those. If yer gonna be of any use, that is the _least_ you gotta know.” Bobby growled and pointed to a seat, “Sit over there and keep an ear open while you read. You ain't moving so hot, and like hell I’m gonna see anything happen to my boys because you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”


End file.
